Truth Will Out
by Joeser
Summary: For a moment he just stood there, too much in shock to react. He had never heard his brother scream before and it terrified him to his very core.
1. Family Dinner

_1\. Family Dinner_

"Just tone it down a bit."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Nathan said as he closed the door and took his mother's coat. "Don't be too hard on Meredith. I know you don't like her, you never did, but you're gonna have to try for Claire's sake. She'd really like it if the two of you would get along better."

"You're overreacting, Nathan."

" _I_ am overreacting?"

"I always thought your brother was the emotional one."

"I'm not being emotional about this, Ma. You're just being irrational." Nathan turned his back on his mother and went to hang her coat on the coat rack. "I want us all to sit down and have dinner together without being at each other's throats the entire time _._ "

His mother shrugged and continued further into the house. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "He's here?" she asked as she looked up.

"Yeah, he's staying in the guest room. He's been there for eight days now." Nathan went to stand next to his mother and saw the look on her face. "You know the situation, Ma. He's here because Meredith and I asked him to stay here. It was the least we could do."

"You're making a big mistake, Nathan."

"Why?" Nathan turned around to face his mother and narrowed his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something…?"

"Don't be silly," she said as she kept looking up. "It's bad enough that he's staying at your house. Now he has to join us at dinner as well. Whose idea was that?"

"Claire's," Nathan answered as he scratched a spot on the back of his head. Maybe inviting his mother wasn't such a good idea after all. All she ever did was complain. "You don't have to be there. Dad ain't coming either… Maybe the two of you can go out together or something." He frowned as he thought about something. "When was the last time you actually did something together?"

"That is none of your business," his mother said as she started looking around, probably criticizing the interior of his house. "You may be Senator, but you're also still my son. You don't get to talk to me like that."

Nathan followed his mother as she walked into the kitchen. It was one of those moments he wished that Peter was there to help him out. His brother was so much better at communicating with their mother.

"What you're suggesting isn't possible anyway." His mother greeted the kitchen staff with a nod of her head and sat down at the table. "Your father's got an appointment with Mr Linderman, that's why he couldn't be here."

"He's never here, Ma." Nathan sighed wearily. "Flint will be joining us for dinner, whether you like it or not. Claire asked me to invite him and I did. You're the only one who's being difficult about it." He waited for her response, but she didn't give him one. It was obvious where Peter got his stubbornness from. "If you won't do it for me, then at least do it for Claire. She really wants you to be there too."

"You're not really giving me much of a choice, Nathan."

Nathan took that as a yes. "Thanks, Ma." He smiled his politician smile, walked to his mother and kissed her on the cheek. "You have no idea how much it means to me and Claire." He almost wanted to add Meredith to that sentence, but decided against it. It would probably change her mind again.

"I think I do."

"Dad!"

Nathan left the kitchen and went to the living room. "What is it, Claire?"

Claire was sitting cross-legged on the couch with her phone in one hand and the remote control in the other. "I've got Peter on the phone. He says he probably won't be here in time for dinner."

Nathan placed his hands high on his hips and smiled grimly. "Did he tell you why?"

"It's one of his patients."

"Of course it is." Nathan was losing his mind. After all the trouble he had to go through to get a simple family dinner planned, making sure everybody was going to be there, convincing his mother to put her personal feelings aside... Peter had to screw everything up again. He looked at Claire and the phone she was holding. "You've got him on the phone right now?"

Claire nodded.

"Let me talk to him." She handed him her phone and he held it to his ear. "Pete?"

 _"I'm really sorry, Nathan. I just can't go anywhere right now."_

"Why?"

 _"Charles died this morning."_

"Charles as in… your patient Charles?"

 _"Yeah, him. It's not like I didn't see it coming, because I did. I just can't leave."_

"The guy is dead, Pete. What more can you do?"

"Dad!" Claire looked at him at him in disbelief.

Nathan knew he sounded a bit harsh, but he really wanted Peter to be there and so did Claire. Her birthday had been over a month ago and they hadn't been able to celebrate it yet (mainly due to Nathan's work). They had finally picked a day when everybody was available, then Peter had to cancel again.

 _"You know what, Nathan? It_ _w_ _ouldn't hurt for you to_ _act_ _a bit less like a jerk sometimes_ _."_

"I just don't see why it's such a big deal."

 _"It's his daughter, Simone. I'm not gonna leave her on her own. Not now."_

"Doesn't she have anyone else?"

 _"Yeah, but… that's complicated."_

Nathan looked down and saw that Claire was trying to get his attention. She mouthed some words, obviously trying to tell him something, but he had no idea what. He had always been terrible at reading lips. "Hang on a sec, Pete." He held the phone to his chest. "What?"

"He can bring her, if he wants."

"Her father just died, Claire. I don't think she's in the mood for a birthday party."

"It's _just_ dinner. It's not like we're gonna sing and play loud music or anything. We're just gonna eat and talk. Or maybe just eat... That's all. It might distract her a bit."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I don't mind. If that's what it takes to have the whole family together…"

"Alright." Nathan held the phone to his ear again. "Pete? Claire says you can invite her, if you want."

 _"Oh. Yeah, I think she'd like that."_

"Just give us a call when you know, okay?"

 _"Sure, and Nathan..."_

"Yeah?"

 _"I need to talk to you about something."_

"What? Now?"

 _"No, not now. Not over the phone. Can we talk about it tonight?"_

Nathan rolled his eyes, but turned around so Claire couldn't see him doing it. He knew what his younger brother wanted to talk to him about. Peter had tried to talk to him about it before. He just _really_ wasn't in the mood for it today. "So, that means you're gonna be here?" he asked, avoiding Peter's question.

 _"I never said I wasn't gonna be there. I just didn't know at what time."_

"Right. Okay, see you tonight then." Nathan hung up before his brother had the chance to say anything else and gave the phone back to his daughter. "The good news is that he's definitely gonna be here. The bad news is that we don't know at what time."

"At least he's gonna be here."

"You're not upset about your grandfather not being there, are you?" Nathan really wanted his daughter to see her grandparents more often, but there were a few problems preventing that from happening. His mother had never really accepted his relationship with Meredith. She only ever came over when Meredith wasn't home and his father… Arthur Petrelli _never_ made time for his family, not even his wife. Nathan couldn't even remember seeing him try.

"Not really..." Claire answered. She looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "What about uncle Flint? Did you ask him?"

"Of course I did." That was a lie. It had been Meredith who had asked Flint, because if anyone knew how to persuade Flint into having dinner with the entire family, it was his big sister.

"And?"

"He's not the type of man that turns down free food," Nathan joked. It turned out that persuading Flint was a very difficult task. He had thrown a tantrum, had yelled at his sister to leave him alone and even threatened to burn the house down. After a good night's sleep, he apologised and accepted their invitation for dinner. But Claire didn't need to know all that.

"Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Cause he _just_ got out of prison and… I know he's innocent, but he's been in there for a really long time. What if he's… I don't know. Different? What if it changed him?"

"Your mother says he's doing great."

Claire raised an eyebrow at him. "He's been upstairs in his room for over a week now and I haven't seen him once! How is that doing great?"

"Your Mother's words, not mine." Nathan went to his daughter and kissed her on the top of her head. "Your mother knows him like no other. If she says he's doing great, I believe her."

Claire didn't look too certain about that, but smiled at him nonetheless.

"I'm gonna check up on your grandmother." Nathan turned around and left the living room, just when Meredith came down from the stairs. She looked tired. She had been looking tired ever since her brother moved into to the house. "How is he doing?" he whispered.

Meredith shrugged. "He's just blowing off some steam." She walked past her husband and added, "literally."

Nathan laughed and followed her to the kitchen. His mother was sitting at the exact same spot where he had left her earlier. She sat there with her head resting on the table, fast asleep. "Ma?" He shook her shoulder carefully. "Ma, wake up."

She opened her eyes and sat up in one quick motion, breathing in a lot of oxygen as if she had just woken from a nightmare.

"Are you okay? Do you wanna lie down for a bit?"

"No, no." Angela looked up at her son and smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine."

"Are you tired?" Meredith asked as she sat down on the chair next to her mother in law.

"Just because I closed my eyes for one minute doesn't mean that I'm tired," Angela said as she kept looking at Nathan, even though it was obviously meant for Meredith.

Meredith got to her feet immediately and looked at her mother in law with wide eyes, her nostrils flaring madly. "Maybe you should try keeping your head _up_ the next time you close your eyes." She didn't even wait for Angela's response and headed back towards the hallway.

"Wait." Nathan tried to grab her arm, but she was able to twist it away from his grip. "Mere, just wait a second."

"I've tried, Nathan. I really have, but this…" Meredith turned around and gestured to the kitchen with her hand. "Your mother is just so…" she tried to find the right word for Angela's behaviour, but couldn't find it. "I swear, I'm not gonna make it till the end of the day without…"

Nathan's eyes widened when he saw what his wife was about to do. "Oh, no you don't." He placed his hand quickly on hers and lowered it to her side again. "It's just one day. _One_ day and you won't have to see her again for a very long time. Just don't talk to her and she won't talk to you either. Can you do that for me?"

Meredith opened her mouth, but shut it again when she heard her brother yell from upstairs.

Nathan looked up and lifted his brow. "Something is seriously wrong with that guy."

"Shut up," Meredith said as she hit him softly in the chest. "He just needs a bit more time." She shook her head and went upstairs, towards the guest room where Flint was staying, with Nathan on her heels. All the while, Flint kept cussing and swearing as if he had gone completely insane.

"What's going on here?" Nathan asked as he and Meredith entered the room. Flint was there, but so was Claire, holding an empty bucket and looking absolutely terrified.

"What's going on?!" Flint shouted as he held out his steaming hands. "I'll tell you what's going on. Your stupid daughter poured water over me. _Water_ for fuck's sake!"

Meredith looked at Nathan for a moment, before turning to her daughter. "Did you?"

"Of course I did, Mom! His arm was on fire!"

"Come on, Claire." Nathan put his arm around Claire's shoulders and directed her out of the room. "Sort him out, Meredith."

Claire shrugged her father's arm from her shoulders and turned to face him. "Why was his arm on fire?! He's not like…" her eyes darted back and forth, making sure the others couldn't hear her and whispered, "suicidal or something?"

Nathan shook his head and with his arm back on Claire's shoulders he continued towards the stairs. "Your uncle Flint is a complicated man. You were right about him being different. He's been in prison for a very long time and now he has to get used to normal life again."

"That doesn't explain his arm being on fire," Claire hissed. "You know what's even more weird? The fire was blue, how do the hell does fire get blue?"

"Claire..." Nathan warned her, not liking the language she was using. "He's always been a bit of a pyromaniac, even as a little kid according to your mother."

"Okay… So it was an accident?"

"Probably. Yes."

"Don't you think it's better if he stays someplace else? Y'know, in case he burns the house down or something."

"He's not gonna burn the house down, Claire. He's not _that_ dumb." Nathan's eyes widened when he realized what he had just said. "Um… Don't tell your mother I said that."

Claire smiled. "He's kind of dumb, isn't he?"

"Well, you know what your mother always says. God gave him a bigger sister instead of a brain."

"Yeah, and he gave you a little brother instead of a heart," Meredith said as she descended from the stairs.


	2. Lights Out

_2\. Lights Out_

As Peter walked towards the front door, he thought about what he was going to say. It didn't even matter what, just as long as he said _something_. But what? What was there left for him to say after everything that happened that day and the uncomfortable dinner they just had?

His mother and Meredith had been avoiding each other the whole time. Peter knew that it was his mother who had a problem with Meredith and not the other way round, but still. There were more ways to deal with it than the silent treatment.

Meredith's brother Flint didn't even make it till main course. The guy simply stood up from his chair and left the room without any explanation at all. It bugged Peter that nobody had gone after him, not even his own sister. Peter would have gone after Flint himself, if only he knew more about the situation. All he knew was that Flint had been in prison for setting his and his sister's old house on fire, which he didn't do on purpose (according to Nathan).

The rest of the evening had been quite uneventful. Peter had been talking with Simone for a while, about her work, the paintings she had recently sold and about her father. His mother even mentioned that she had known Charles when she was younger, which came as a total surprise to Peter. He and Simone didn't even get the chance to ask how they had met, because his mother had to leave all of a sudden.

With Angela and Flint gone, everybody felt more at ease. It stayed that way until Claire suddenly announced that she had a boyfriend. Meredith wasn't that bothered about it, but it was enough for Nathan to lose his appetite.

Peter never expected anything different from a Petrelli family dinner. The drama was something he had gotten used to, over the years. That was not what bothered him. What bothered him was that Nathan had been avoiding him all night and he had no idea why.

"I'm sorry you had to witness all… that. I wish I could say that they're normally not like that, but that would be a lie."

"It's okay, Peter. I actually had a great time."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Simone said as she was putting on her coat. "I've never had these big family dinners. It's always been just me and Dad. Not that that's a bad thing, but this was... nice for a change."

Nice… it wasn't the word Peter would have chosen to describe the evening. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked as he opened the door.

"Life goes on. I can't start falling apart now, can I?"

"Maybe not, but it's okay to stop and take a moment to catch your breath."

Simone smiled and looked down as she buttoned up her coat. It reminded Peter (again) how much he loved it when she smiled. He noticed how her smile had a sad edge to it this time, but that didn't make him love it any less. It didn't make him love _her_ any less.

"So… I guess I'll see you at the funeral? You'll be there, right?"

"Of course."

"I think he would've wanted you to be there. You've been like a son to him."

"Yeah, but that would make us…" Peter paused when a cab pulled up on the other side of the street.

Simone turned her head, momentarily distracted by the yellow vehicle.

Peter closed his eyes for a second, feeling quite relieved that he hadn't been able to finish his sentence. He wanted to say something about that making them brother and sister and how awkward it would be if he ever wanted to ask her out, but that would've been _way_ too inappropriate.

"Make us what?" Simone asked.

"Nothing. Never mind."

She nodded and smiled at him one more time, before she started walking towards the cab that Nathan had paid for.

Peter leaned against the door frame and watched her walk all the way to the other side of the road. He closed the door when she entered the vehicle and turned around, just when his brother crossed the hallway. He saw his chance and he took it immediately. "Nathan."

Nathan stopped and turned around. "Pete. I thought you had gone home already."

"I still need to talk to you about something."

Nathan cocked his head and looked behind Peter, through the window, at the taxi outside. "If you hurry, you could still catch up with her."

Peter waited a couple of seconds until he heard the car drive away. "I guess I'll just have to take another one."

"Good idea." Nathan started walking away from his brother. "I'll call one for you right now."

"Right now?" Peter looked at Nathan with some level of incredulity. Nathan didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was avoiding Peter again, but Peter wasn't going to let himself be dismissed that easily. "Are you trying to get rid of me or something?"

Nathan stopped and turned around again. "No, of course not. I'm just saying... I saw the look on your face, Pete. If you really like that woman, you should ask her out."

"She's already with somebody, Nathan." Peter didn't need to tell his brother that. He had told Nathan about Simone's relationship (or whatever she wanted to call it) earlier, to prevent any awkward situations during dinner. "Why won't you just listen to me?"

Nathan pursed his lips, clearly thinking that over. With one hand in his hair he looked back and forth between the dining room and the living room. "Okay, we can talk. Just not here."

Peter frowned and followed his brother into the living room. Once in there, Nathan closed the sliding doors that divided the room from the hallway and turned around, a sullen expression visible on his face. He looked like the living room was the last place he wanted to be at that moment.

"Well?"

"Let's start with 'what the hell is wrong with you?' All I wanna do is talk to you. I've been wanting to tell you something the whole time, but you've been avoiding me like... like what I've got to say will ruin your career or something."

"That's not…" Nathan sighed and put his hands up in defeat. "Okay, what is it?"

"I've been having those dreams again..."

"Again?" Nathan asked. He refused to look Peter in the eye for some reason. "You're talking about the ones in which you were flying, right?"

"Yeah, but they were different this time."

"Different, how?"

Peter walked around the couch towards the television and stopped right in front of it. He needed his brother's full attention. "They were more clear, more realistic, but somehow less… positive… It felt like something new, something exciting, but also something that's... that's gonna change _everything_. I know it sounds crazy, but I still think I can do it, Nathan."

"Do what, Pete?"

" _Fly_ , of course."

Nathan sighed and walked around the couch towards his brother. He placed both his hands on Peter's shoulders and sighed again. "You… can't fly, Pete. Nobody can-," he stopped halfway through his sentence when the lights turned off all of a sudden. "What the hell?"

"It _is_ possible," Peter said, ignoring the power glitch. "I've read this book 'Activating Revolution' by some geneticist from India. He says it's all possible. Rapid tissue regeneration, teleportation, levitation. Just imagine all the possibilities if that's true. Those dreams I've been having… They mean something, Nate."

"They mean you have a vivid imagination." Nathan went to the light switch and turned it on and off a couple of times, but nothing changed. "It's _just_ your imagination. That's it."

"I should never have told you." Peter strode back to the other side the living room, past Nathan, towards the doors. He was done. Done with Nathan and his negativity. Maybe his brother wasn't the right person to talk to after all. He pulled at the door handle, tried to slide the door back open, but it didn't move. It was stuck, somehow.

"You should really start working on those muscles, Pete."

"Very funny." Peter faked a smile at his brother and turned around to try the other door. He pulled at the handle with all his strength, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. The door wouldn't even budge.

"Come on, Pete. I don't have all night."

"Do it yourself then." Peter stepped back, making room for his brother to give it a try.

With a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders Nathan went to the door and placed his left hand on the handle. He pushed down and pulled, adding his other hand after a couple of seconds to fortify his grip.

"When was the last time you went to the gym, Nate?" Peter asked, using the same tone of voice his brother had used after being made fun of.

Nathan straightened and placed a hand on his hip. "Yeah, yeah." He examined the door, probably looking for the reason why it wasn't doing what it was supposed to do. "These damn doors are probably stuck together… Why don't you take that side, I'll take this and we'll both pull at the same time."

"Why don't you just stop for a second and think about what I just said? How can you deny the possibility of being able to do something extraordinary, when you don't even want to hear what I've got to say?" Peter looked through the glass door, to the other room and narrowed his eyes. "I bet Claire would love to read that book."

Nathan turned his head and looked at Peter, determining if his brother was being serious. "No, no, no. I won't let you fill her head with that nonsense. She doesn't need that. She needs to focus on school, on her grades and even cheerleading needs her full attention these days. Jesus, Pete. She's growing up too fast already. I just want her to be a teenager, to have fun and I don't want her to worry about anything else." He looked back at the door and muttered, "which includes boyfriends apparently."

"It's not nonsense. You would know that if you'll just _listen_."

With his hand back on the handle, Nathan returned to what was 'really' important. Which was the door, 'obviously'. "Help me with these doors, Pete. We need to get the power back on."

Peter took the other handle in both hands. "You make it sound like it's something dangerous. Like talking about the impossible will ruin her life. Aren't you overreacting just a little bit?"

"I'm not…" Nathan paused, probably losing interest in arguing about something he didn't care about anyway. He took a moment before counting to three. "One… Two…"

At three they both started pulling at both sides of the two doors. Their faces scrunched up and their knuckles turned white as they pulled with all their strength.

After a few seconds Peter let out a small groan and gave up. He straightened and took a deep breath. "You know what's really weird? The power's been off for like what, five minutes now? I haven't seen anybody cross the hallway yet. You'd think the first thing they'd do, would be looking for you. What are they still doing in there?"

Nathan turned his head to look at the dining room. "Maybe they're the cause of all this and they're trying to sort it by themselves. You know what women are like."

Peter rolled his eyes at the generalisation. "It just seems too much of a coincidence that these doors get stuck _and_ the power turns off at the _exact_ same time." It was no coincidence. Something else was going on and Peter wasn't going to stand around doing nothing. "Nathan."

"Yeah, I know. We need to get these doors open." Nathan gave it another go and pushed the door handle down again. He was about to pull when the door slid open all by itself all. The door on his right, the one on Peter's side, it did exactly the same.

Peter stepped back, not quite comprehending what he was witnessing. The doors opened by themselves. Nathan wasn't even holding the handle. "These doors don't run on electricity, right? They're normal doors, right?"

"They are."

"Then why…"

Nathan was already out of the living room, heading towards his wife and daughter.

Peter stayed behind. He still couldn't understand what had happened. Either Nathan was playing him for a fool, or there was something seriously wrong with those doors. Whatever it was, Nathan didn't think it was important enough to stick around, so why should Peter do the same?

He thought about leaving. He had been desperate to leave before, but the power still hadn't turned back on and he might as well stay until it did. So instead, he followed his brother into the dining room.

Peter stood still next to his brother. He saw Meredith and Claire sitting opposite from each other at the table in the dark. It was an odd sight. They were just sitting there, doing nothing but stare at their surroundings. But as soon as Peter got closer to the table he realized that something must have happened, that someone must have said something, because they were looking at him now. And the way they were looking at him wasn't normal.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks. He told his legs to move, but they didn't listen. Some kind of invisible force was preventing him from going anywhere. As if he was being crushed between two walls, he started having trouble to breath. He tried to speak, shout and call out for help but he wasn't even able to open his mouth. He had no idea what was happening to him.

He looked back at his family, hoping they would help him, but all they did was look at him with fear in their eyes. It was only then that Peter noticed the tears on his niece's cheeks.

And as if someone was suddenly standing really close, like... not even an inch from his ear, he heard the words, _"Time for dessert."_


	3. Home Invader

_3\. Home Invader_

What Nathan had done to deserve it, he did not know.

He knew he had not always been the best father to Claire, the best husband to Meredith or the best brother to Peter, but he had tried. His work demanded a lot from him, mentally as well as physically. Even when he was home during weekends, even when he finally had some time to spend with his family, his mind would still be occupied by his work schedule for the next day.

And that was not a good sign.

He realized he was becoming more like his father with each day. A father whose work was more important than his family. But Arthur had not always been like that. Nathan actually had a few great memories of his father. It was only a few years before Peter was born that Arthur started to stay away from home more often. His work then became more important than his family. He wasn't even there when his second child was born.

Nathan was.

He still remembered everything that happened that night. He was only twelve years old, but the memories would always stay with him. Every detail was still as clear as day. How he had to sit in the waiting area with a nurse whose name was Patricia. She had brought him a set of cards for him to play with, but he was too busy worrying about his Mom. He remembered when Patricia held his hand as they went to see his Mom and the baby. He remembered how he sat beside his mother's bed and held his baby brother in his arms. _Nothing is gonna happen to you, Petey,_ he had told his brother. _I will always be there for you._

His father went to see them the next morning. He told them the reason why he had not been there was because his flight had been delayed. Nathan had never forgiven him for not being home in the first place.

And he refused to go down the same road. He refused to become stranger in his own house or some distant relative. He would be a father to his daughter, a husband to his wife and a brother to his brother. He would even try to fix whatever was going on between his mother and Meredith if that was possible. This dinner, this family dinner had been his first attempt to show how much his family meant to him.

He just hoped it wasn't too late.

"Hey. Senator. _Pay_ attention."

Nathan looked up in response and expressed his anger with a frown. He still didn't know what he did to deserve it. Was it negligence? Was it dishonesty? Or was it simply coincidence that brought them in this situation?

"Am I boring you?"

"No," Nathan answered curtly.

"Good. So, will you let me continue?"

He had no other choice but nod at the second question. A man, he had never seen before in his entire life (if he did, he probably would have remembered) had broken into his house and had forced his family to sit down at the dining table. He didn't know what the man wanted, but figured it probably had something to do with money. He _hoped_ it had something to do with money, because that at least would be something he could work with.

But what if it didn't have anything to do with money? Nathan saw no gun, no knife, no weapon of any sorts. Not that there was need for one. The man had something way more powerful, something that gave him more control than any other weapon could give him.

He was using his power to hold them hostage.

It was the only explanation Nathan could think of. The man wanted something, needed something and wouldn't let them go until they gave it to him.

So, in order to make it out alive, in order to let nothing happen to his family, Nathan had to make their captor think himself in charge of the situation. He had to stay calm and obedient, give the guy whatever he wanted and see to it that nobody was harmed.

"…not what I expected from a man in your position." The man heaved a heavy sigh, as if he knew that Nathan hadn't been listening again. He continued nonetheless. "As I was saying, my apologies for barging in so… unannounced. That wasn't my intention. I swear to God," he placed his hand on his chest, pretending to be sincere and added, "I was just about to ring the doorbell when I overheard you talking to your… brother, was it?"

"Bullshit," Peter said.

"Peter…" Nathan warned his brother. He understood Peter's need to say something back, to remain defiant toward their captor. It was a brave thing to do and Nathan felt the exact same way, but it wasn't the right way to handle the situation.

And Peter understood. He did not like it one bit (the look he gave Nathan showed how much), but he understood that it was better to keep his mouth shut.

Their captor snorted loud with laughter and placed both his hands on the table next to Peter. The seriousness was back on his face, when he said, "I am _truly_ sorry. _Please_ accept my apologies. It was not my intention to cause so much trouble." The words sounded rehearsed coming from his mouth. He turned his head to Nathan and resumed. "It's not the reason why I'm here, Senator. The reason why I'm here is because I heard some... disturbance here, today, and forgive me for sticking my nose where it obviously doesn't belong, but I decided to have a quick look. Just to see if everything was okay. Maybe even offer my help if you needed it."

"Disturbance?" Nathan dared to ask. He was a bit confused. Their captor had not even mentioned anything about money yet.

" _Why was his arm on fire_? _How does fire get blue_?" The man repeated Claire's questions almost accurately, as if he had been there when she asked them. "You came so close, Senator. So close..."

As Nathan wondered whether it was all just a dream (or rather a nightmare), the intruder suddenly started pacing around the table. He moved past Nathan and past Meredith, towards Claire. He stopped behind her and bent over until his chin was just inches above her shoulder. "I have to ask you something, _Claire_. Think before you answer." He looked at Nathan as he asked, "Do you believe what he told you? Do you believe the answer he gave you?"

"I…" was the only thing Claire got out. Her bottom lip started trembling rapidly as if the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped twenty degrees.

" _Think_ before you answer," he repeated.

Nathan wanted to know just exactly what kind of sick game he was being played with. What was that man's goal? Did he even have a plan or was it something else? Something personal perhaps, like a personal vendetta? Nathan still couldn't recall ever having seen him before, but maybe he didn't have to. He had seen so many faces, shaken so many hands, he could have easily forgotten this one.

All the while, Claire seemed to be thinking about her answer. The tears on her face had long dried and she no longer looked as scared as she did when Nathan first entered the dining room. She looked braver now and more in control over her emotions.

"Tick, tock," the man said.

"I believe what he told me," Claire answered carefully.

Nathan kept eye contact with her and gave a slight nod to let her know that she had said the right thing.

"Of course you do. He's a politician and politicians have a certain way with words. They tell you the truth, but not the whole truth. That way they won't have to lie." He went to Claire's left and crouched down on the floor, so he was looking up at her. "You and I both know that he wasn't completely honest with you. I'm wondering..." He looked at Nathan again, just for a second, before he asked, "Do they know about you?"

Nathan fought against his invisible bonds with everything he had, but it was futile. His feet were stuck to the floor, his hands glued to the table. He wanted to tell Claire not to listen to any crap that that bastard would tell her, but he couldn't open his mouth. His lips were sealed.

"I guess not," their captor continued. "You never told them, but you didn't have to. Cause you know what I'm thinking? I think they knew about you _all_ along. That would really suck, wouldn't it?"

He moved away from Claire, walked alongside the table and sat down on a chair at the head of the table, with Nathan on his right side and Peter on his left. "So," he said, looking at each brother in turn. "I heard the two of you talking and I know, it's rude to be eavesdropping on something that was clearly very personal, but I had to stop and listen anyway."

Nathan exchanged a look with his brother and wondered what Peter was thinking, whether he was still keeping his mouth shut or if it was being forced shut. He still looked just as annoyed by the man's presence as the rest of them did, which was good.

"The conversation started out quite interesting, actually. I was thinking to myself: Am I witnessing something here? Is this really happening? _Such_ a special moment between brothers and I must say, I was feeling honoured to be a part of it." The man made himself more comfortable by leaning back in his chair. "And then you had to screw it up. Yes, you did," he said when Nathan shook his head. "You screwed up _big_ time, Senator. Do you have any idea how disappointing it was to hear you say those words? _You can't fly. Nobody can fly._ That just... broke my heart. But who am I? I'm nobody. Can you imagine how _he_ must have felt? Your own _brother_. Your own- You share the same blood and yet you still crushed his hopes and dreams like it was nothing."

That guy needed to shut up and he needed to do it soon. Nathan didn't know what to do or what to think anymore. He had no idea where this one-sided conversation was heading, he only knew that it had to stop. It had to end. Peter wasn't even looking at him anymore. All he did was stare at the table.

"Then he gave you a (in my eyes) fairly reasonable explanation and BAM!"

All four of them held their breath when his fist slammed down hard on the table.

"You did it again! You disappointed him _again_." He leaned forward and looked Nathan dead in the eye. "Tell me, what were you planning to accomplish by making him believe it's his imagination giving him those ideas? His vivid imagination, if I'm not mistaken?"

Nathan decided not to respond anymore and began to wonder how long that guy had been in the house, instead. He must have been in the house already, because there was no way he could have heard all that while standing outside.

 _How_ he had broken in was obvious.

"Cause I gotta tell ya. To me, it looks like you'd rather have him think he's going crazy than believe in his ability to fly. And that coming from you..." The intruder raked his hair back with his hand and exhaled dramatically. "Pff... Now that's disturbing. I mean, _really_ disturbing." He stood abruptly and pushed the chair under the table. Then all he did was stand and stare at the four of them for a couple of minutes.

Nathan felt so useless. All he could do was sit and wait for whatever was going to happen. Whatever that guy was planning to say to them, _do_ to them, Nathan wouldn't be able to stop him. That feeling of being powerless, it was agonising.

"I just made everything a whole lot easier for you, didn't I? There's no need to thank me, though. I'm just looking out for your best interests." Again, he walked alongside the table, stopping behind Meredith this time. "Don't think I'm letting you off the hook," he told her. "You're just as bad as he is. Only difference is that he's doing all the dirty work and all you have to do is nod your pretty little head." He leaned forward, just like he did before with Claire and added, "you're the _perfect_ wife," then took a step back.

"Well, that's all I had to say." He went to the door that led to the terrace and opened it. "I'll just let myself out then, shall I?" He left and let the door fall shut behind him.

They all stood at the same time as soon as the man had left. Their invisible bonds were gone. The lights had turned back on and it took Nathan less than a second to decide what he was going to do. He had to know if their intruder was really gone, he had to see it with his own eyes. He rushed to the door that led to the terrace and opened it.

The intruder was gone.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked as he followed Nathan outside. "We gotta leave."

"Leave?" Nathan asked as he glanced around the back yard. Either the man was hiding in one of the bushes or he was really gone. "Where do you wanna go? He's gone."

"I think it's time for you to stop playing dumb, Nathan. We gotta leave, _now."_

Nathan frowned and turned around "I'm not playing dumb," he told his brother truthfully.

And then everything happened so fast.

Peter tried to speak, he tried to tell Nathan something, but the words were caught in his throat. He coughed, he choked and stumbled forward.

Nathan reacted just in time to break his brother's fall. "Peter?" He crouched down on the cold stone floor and rolled Peter onto his back. "Peter, what's wrong? Talk to me."

But Peter gave no response. He just lay there, staring up at the night sky, sweating bullets and gasping for breath. Nathan didn't know what to do or how to help, so he just held his brother's head in both hands and tried to stay calm. Perhaps Peter was having a panic attack. He had panic attacks before and with everything that just happened, it kind of made sense.

"He's… He's..."

"Take your time. Just breathe. Come on, Peter. Breath." It wasn't working. "Breathe, damn it. Breathe."

"He's coming back, Nathan."


	4. Cold Blooded

_4\. Cold Blooded_

"Hey, take it easy."

"What the hell happened?"

"You fainted, Pete."

"Why?" Peter groaned and sat up with a little help from his brother. He blinked his eyes a couple of times as he tried to understand why he was suddenly lying on his back, outside on the terrace.

"How should I know? One moment you were talking, the next you were on the ground. It looked like you were having a panic attack." Nathan sounded annoyed as he spoke. "Look, Peter. Before you fainted, you said something. You said he was coming back. I need to know why you said that."

Peter frowned at first, but then he remembered why he was outside again and the reason why he had panicked. It was all coming back to him. "We need to leave, Nathan. We need to leave _now_."

"So you've said." Nathan glanced over his shoulder and around the garden, still checking if the intruder was really gone. He turned back to Peter when he was sure the coast was still clear and placed one of his hands on his brother's shoulder. "What makes you think he's coming back?"

Peter stood very abruptly and wiped his hands on his pants. "I heard his thoughts, Nathan." He pointed his finger at his own head, hoping to look more convincing that way. "In here. I heard his thoughts in here, as if... as if they were my own. I know it sounds crazy and I don't care if you believe it, but you'll just have to trust me, yeah? We need to go get the girls and leave before it's too late." He turned around and went for the door.

"You _heard_ his thoughts?" Nathan asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

" _Yes_." Peter opened the door and went inside with his brother on his heels. "What, you still think it's impossible? That it's all just in my head, even after what just happened? Get real, Nathan."

Nathan ignored his brother's words and walked to the center of the room with his hands back on his hips. "They're not here. Why aren't they here? Where are they?"

"I told Meredith to get Flint and I told Claire to stay inside," Peter answered as he walked towards the stairway. "Maybe they've gone to get him together."

" _That's just great_."

He stopped and turned around. Nathan was really starting to piss him off. "What else was I supposed to do, huh? You were already outside, going after that guy, that... that... I don't even know what he was." He was exactly what Peter had been trying to prove to Nathan for so long, someone with supernatural powers. It wasn't just his imagination. That guy had it. And then Peter himself turned out to have it as well. He wanted to be excited about it, to tell the others right away, but there was no time for it yet. Not while they were still in danger.

"All I know is that he's coming back and _that's_ why we can't stay here. We've all seen what he's capable of." Nathan walked right past his brother, without even saying a word. Like he was deliberately avoiding the subject. " _Nathan_! Are you even listening? It's _not_ safe here. We _have_ to go."

Nathan stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. "What did you hear?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"When you were reading his mind, Peter! What did you hear? What was he thinking?"

Peter was taken aback by his brother's question. First, Nathan flat out denied the possibility of Peter ever being able to fly and now, _now_ he had suddenly accepted his ability to read minds like it was the most normal thing in the world. He had gone from complete denial to acceptance in less than ten minutes. "Oh, so something actually needs to happen for you to finally believe me? That's messed up, Nathan."

There was a loud scream coming from upstairs.

"Meredith!" Nathan shouted, recognizing his wife's voice immediately. He ran (almost flew) up the staircase as fast as he could, taking two steps at the time, following the sound of Meredith's voice. It led him to the guest room, the room where Flint was currently staying.

"No, no, no," he kept hearing her say as he got closer and closer. Something was not right. He hastened to the end of the hallway and went through the door ons his right.

Meredith was there. She was sitting on the floor, on her knees, but it was too dark to see what she was doing.

"What's wro…"

And then he saw it.

It was Flint. He was also on the floor, flat on his back. Nothing more. He was just lying there. Meredith was sitting next to him with one of her hands clasped over her mouth. Nathan opened his mouth to ask if Flint was okay, but swallowed the words quickly. Meredith wasn't doing anything. If Flint needed help, she definitely would have gotten it already. That she wasn't doing anything could only mean one thing. "Is he…"

An eerie silence followed.

"Oh, God..." Nathan ran his hand over his face and through his hair, letting it rest there for a moment as he tried to make sense of what had happened. Flint couldn't be dead. There was no way he had died in the short time that he had gone upstairs. He was full of life at dinner. He wasn't acting weird or anything. Not more than usual, anyway.

It was only when Nathan got closer to his wife and brother in law, when his eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness, that he saw just exactly what had happened to Flint. "What the…"

The upper half of Flint's head _and_ his brains were both gone. Like someone had taken a chainsaw, sawed Flint's head in half and took the content for God knows what reason. All that remained was a gaping hole and blood. A lot of blood. Thick, dark red liquid surrounded his empty head. It was a gruesome thing to look at. Like one of those things that only ever happened in horror movies.

But this was real and Nathan was overcome by a wave of nausea and fear as he looked at Flint's corpse. He knelt down beside Meredith and tried to ignore the pool of blood that grew bigger and bigger as it soaked the white carpet.

"How did this happen?" he asked. He saw the slightest shake of her head, meaning she had no idea either. It was obvious that someone had done this to Flint. Someone had broken in and had killed Flint in the most brutal way imaginable.

It wasn't hard to figure who that someone had been.

And then it was Nathan's turn to have a panick attack. "Mere… Where is she?"

Meredith lifted her head slowly, black mascara tears falling to the floor instead of her hands. "I-I… told her to stay downstairs and wait for you and Peter," she answered with shuddering breaths between words.

Nathan turned around and saw his brother standing in the doorway. Peter was obviously in shock. He was looking terrified as hell. "Peter..." Nathan said as he felt his heart rate increase. "Could you…?"

But thankfully Peter snapped out of it as soon as he heard his name. "I'm on it," he said and ran back down the stairs, straight into the living room. "Claire?"

He didn't need the lights on to know that she wasn't there. He heard a sound coming from the kitchen. "Claire?!" He followed the sound, through the dining room, straight into the kitchen. And there she was, sitting at the table, just like before. "Claire? Are you okay?" She wasn't moving. "Claire?" It was too dark to see her face. "Claire? Listen to me. This crazy son a bitch just killed Flint. We need to..." His mouth suddenly closed by itself.

"You should really learn to watch your tong."

Peter moved towards the table and sat down opposite from his niece. It was exactly like before. He had no control over his body at all. His limbs moved, without his permission. Like a puppet, attached to invisible strings.

As soon as he sat on the chair, facing his niece, he noticed the state she was in. She was shaking. There was something on her face, but he couldn't quite tell what it was. He wanted to ask her what happened, but he wasn't allowed to use his voice.

"I think we're almost complete."

The lights turned back on and the same man from before became visible.

Peter squinted against the bright light. Once his eyes had adjusted, he was able to see Claire's face more clearly. He almost choked when he saw that there was blood on her face. A thick smear of blood, just above her eyebrows. It had been dripping down the sides of her head, over her brow and nose, but there were no wounds. She was okay as far as he could see.

"Oh, right. I tried to kill her."

Peter glared at him. The guy couldn't stop grinning somehow. He was just standing there, leaning against the counter, holding and occasionally sipping from a mug that had the word 'Dad' written on it, watching the two generations of Petrellis sitting opposite from each other.

"Tried?" Peter was suddenly able to ask. He frowned as he realized that he had spoken out loud. It was his chance to ask all the questions he needed to ask and he took it. "What did he do to you, Claire? Why is there blood on your face? Are you hurt?"

"Well, well, well. Isn't that interesting," the man said as he placed the mug on the counter and approached the two Petrellis slowly. He pointed his finger at Claire and smirked. " _You_ haven't told him."

"Haven't told me what?"

"He tried to kill me." Claire didn't know what else to say. She didn't know how to explain that she had healed almost instantly after she had been attacked.

"And?" the man pushed.

"What do you want from me?" Claire asked, another tear rolling down her cheek.

The man went to stand at the head of the table and leaned forward. "Honesty," he answered through gritted teeth. "I have a feeling that this family needs a bit more of that." He leaned to his right, towards Claire. "You. Tell him what happened _after_ I tried to kill you."

"Just... leave us alone, please..."

"Tell him, or I will kill him now and you'll never get the chance to tell him again."

Claire turned her head to Peter. "It's complicated..."

"It's okay, Claire. You don't have to say anything. He can't make you say anything if you don't want to."

"Wrong!" The man pointed his finger at Peter's forehead and moved it very slowly from the left, all the way to the right.

Claire couldn't look away. What that man had done to her, what he had _tried_ to do to her, he was doing the same thing to Peter. He was cutting Peter's head open, just by pointing his finger at him. That's all it took for him to inflict pain somehow.

And Peter screamed. He screamed so loud and Claire couldn't help but scream as well. Tears were pouring out of her eyes and she pleaded for it to stop. She didn't know what else to do. He was in so much pain and she couldn't do anything about it. He was going to die and she was going to watch it happen.

Or maybe not.

Peter's cut was healing. He was healing, just like Claire had done. He was like her. He was able to regenerate, just like her. He wasn't going to die. They were both going to survive this thing.

Claire felt one brief moment of joy, before it was taken away again by the man who had failed to kill both her and her uncle.

"Some family," he said with a glistering in his eye.

Peter was breathing in and out so fast, he didn't know how to slow it down. "What was that? What did I do?"

The man placed his hand on the back of the Claire's head. "Tell him."

"You can heal too?" Claire asked as she tried to pull her head away as far as she could, trying to get that hand off her head, even though she knew it was pointless. "How long have you known?"

"What do you mean, you can heal too? Is that what you just did? He tried to kill you, but you healed? Claire, why have you never said anything?"

"I thought I was the only one! If I had known that you were the same... You didn't know?"

"That this would happen...? No."

"This turns out to be even more interesting than I had hoped for. I wonder…" The man turned his head to look up at the ceiling.

"Don't touch them!" Peter shouted.

Claire didn't know exactly what happened next. All she saw was the man, flying backwards and crashing against the cupboards above the counter. The wooden cupboard doors broke in half and the man fell on the kitchen floor, groaning from the pain in his back. She looked at Peter with wide eyes. "Did you just do that?"

With his mouth hanging open and drops of sweat (probably blood too) gliding down the side of his head, Peter nodded. "I think I did." He and Claire frowned at each other when the man started laughing, loudly. He laughed so loud, it was like he had won the lottery or something.


	5. Senator Petrelli

_5\. Senator Petrelli_

"I'm gonna kill him."

"No, you're not."

Meredith got to her feet and turned to face Nathan. "He's not getting away with it."

"Honey..." Nathan held Meredith's face with both hands on each side to calm her down and tried to get eye contact. "Listen. I get that you want revenge for what he did to Flint, but killing him is not an option. He's too strong."

"We'll see about that."

Nathan reacted just in time to shield his face from the bright light and the intense heat. "Mere," he said as he tried to not look directly at the flickering flames. "Listen to me. If you go after him, he will kill you. Look at your brother, look at what he did to Flint. I don't want you to end up like him."

"I can't let him get away with it, Nathan. I can't."

"Think about your daughter. She needs you. We both do."

The fire vanished and Meredith's face softened as she looked down at her brother. "He didn't deserve to die like this."

"No, he didn't. But there's nothing you can do about it right now. Right now, we have to think about Claire, okay?" Meredith nodded her head and stepped away from Flint's corpse. Nathan was already heading towards the hallway, but stopped when he heard a loud scream.

It was his brother, there was no mistaking. Peter's agony echoed through the entire house, sending chills down Nathan's spine and for a moment he just stood there, too much in shock to react. He had never heard his brother scream before and it terrified him to his very core.

And then he heard Claire.

Meredith grabbed Nathan by his arm. "Was that…?"

"Yes," Nathan said as he rushed out of Flint's room, straight into his own. He was prepared for these type of situations. In the back of the top drawer of his bedside table, he had a gun. The gun had been there for ages, ready to be used in case there would be an emergency. He knew that Meredith was perfectly able to protect all of them. Hell, he himself could rush any idiot into a wall if he had no other choice, but he felt safer knowing there was a weapon in the house.

There _used_ to be a weapon. It was gone now. "Shit, shit, shit…" Nathan almost kicked the drawer of its hinges and turned around. Weapon or no weapon, he had to protect his family. He went back to the door, inwardly yelling at himself for wasting too much time already, but couldn't get it open. "You've got to be kidding me…"

"Senator Petrelli, it's such an honor to finally meet you."

"Oh, yeah?" Nathan grimaced and walked back into the room. He tried to stay calm, despite of how stupid he felt for making the same mistake twice. "The feeling isn't mutual. Where are you? Show your face!"

"I thought about killing you first, but then I didn't know you had such a lovely family."

He had no idea where the voice was coming from. One moment it seemed to come from behind him, the next it was from his left. As if the guy was constantly moving around, without actually making any sound at all, except when he was talking. "What did you do to them? Why did you kill Flint?"

"I didn't plan it. He just happened to be there. It's you I was after, Senator."

"Why?" Nathan heard the door close behind him and turned around. He never even heard it open and yet, there he was. That murdering son of a bitch was just standing there, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with a smug look on his face. Like he owned the place.

"Because you are _special_ , Senator. And don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. That might work with your daughter and brother, but not with me. You and I both know what you can do."

"How do you know about me?" Nathan ignored the fact that the man had been eavesdropping on the conversations he had with both Claire and Peter. The guy was just using it to get to him, to get a rise out of him for some reason. It just wasn't going to work.

"Oh, don't worry, Senator. Your secret is still as safe as it ever was. Nobody knows what you can do. Not yet anyway. No, I've got this list and your name was on it, so..."

"What list? Who else is on it?" Nathan wasn't interested in that list, he was just pretending to care. He only had one plan. Keep the man talking, keep him occupied so everybody else had enough time to get away. He would worry about himself later.

The man pushed himself off from the wall and got a piece of paper from his pocket. "It says 'Petrelli', I just didn't expect it to be the entire family." He crumbled the list in his fist and threw it over his shoulder. "Neither did the man who made it, I guess." He then walked over to the bedside table, picked up a photo frame and tapped his finger on the glass three times. "Killing a whole family, now that's new to me. I mean, a few days ago I killed a man and his wife, but that's nothing compared to what I'm facing here. I like what we've got here."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Nathan was disgusted by the way that that man talked about killing people. He made it sound like it was just a normal every day thing to do.

" _Power_ , Senator. What we've got here is _power_. You, your wife, your daughter, your brother. You all have it, but you knew that already, didn't you? Don't even bother denying it. It will save us both a lot of time if you just admit that you've been keeping secrets from them."

"I don't see why that's any of your business."

"It's not. Like I said, I'm nobody. I just came here with the intention to kill you and move on to the next name on that list. But because I am in such a good mood today, I have decided to postpone your death, Senator. Of course I could just kill all four of you and be done with it, but where's the fun in that?"

Nathan swallowed hard. "I don't get it. What have we ever done to you?"

"Nothing, as far as I know."

"Then why are you doing this to us? You know what we can do..." Nathan took a step back and looked away for a moment as he tried to fit the pieces together. That guy had killed Flint, he was talking about killing the rest of them. It obviously had something to do with their powers. "Is that what's going on here? Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?" The intruder asked, sounding surprised by Nathan's choice of words. "If you put it that way, yeah... Yeah, I suppose I am jealous. But not because you have something I can't have."

"Then why?"

"You will have to figure that one out yourself, Senator."

Another vague answer. "If you're here to kill us, then what's stopping you? All you do is talk. You play these little mind games, hoping to stir things up between me and my family. Why bother when you're going to kill us anyway?"

"I'd like to have a little bit of fun first. See, it's not only your powers that triggered my curiosity. This entire family is based on so many lies, so many secrets. It's full of deceit and it just... _pains_ me to watch it happen." He looked down and ran his fingers over the glass of the frame. "Someone had to do something about that..."

"And that's you? You don't know us, you don't know anything about us." That man had no right to judge them, no right at all. "I saw what you did to Flint. You're a murderer as well as a psychopath and if you think for one second that you're getting away with it, you're wrong."

"Whatever," the man said. He dropped the photo frame on the floor and moved on to the next object, which was a walk-in closet. "I get it. You're an important man. Everyone knows who you are. Posters and billboards with your face on it everywhere. You can't have your brother running around, talking about being extraordinary. It would ruin everything you've worked _so_ hard for." He chuckled hollowly and shook his head. "Poor guy. If only he knew."

"He wasn't ready." Nathan followed him and tried to see what he was doing in his and Meredith's closet. "I would've told him eventually."

"But you didn't."

He was touching everything. Nathan's clothes, Meredith's clothes, her hats, his ties, their shoes, their socks... He picked them up, studied them, dropped them on the floor and moved on to the next object. He was behaving like some sort of animal, making a mess, sniffing around and marking its territory.

"You denied it when he confided in you."

"I know that Peter heard your thoughts," Nathan said to cut himself some slack.

"At last, you acknowledged it. But, unfortunately for him, it was already too late. If you had told h..." he pauzed mid-sentence and turned his head to look at Nathan. "You must feel really stupid."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, Senator. I think you do." He straightened and mimicked Nathan's posture by putting his hands in his pockets and lifting his chin a little higher. "If you had told him sooner what he was capable of, which you didn't, he could have been your chance to save this family."

"Why? Because Peter is a telepath?"

"Oh, but he's so much more than that. It's just too bad he had to find out like this. That's your fault, Senator."

"Why are you telling me all this? Is that also part of the fun?"

"No, this is just me being..." he left the closet and walked past Nathan, back towards the middle of the bedroom, "...generous."

" _Generous_?"

"That's what I said." He placed his right hand on the wooden frame at the foot end of the bed and left it there. "Now, normally I don't do this, but since this is such an unusual situation, I am willing to make an exception. I am giving you the oppertunity to _choose_ who goes down first."

"Y-you..." Nathan stammered. "You want me to decide who you're going to kill first?"

"I'm so glad that we finally understand each other. Yes, that is what I want. It is my gift to you. Again, there's no need to thank me. Men like us know that great power comes with great responsibility. So, tell me. Who do you want me to take down first?"

Nathan ran a hand over his face and stared down at his feet. He was at a loss for words. Negotiating was pointless. The guy had made it very clear that he was going to kill all them, no matter what. But Nathan wasn't going to let himself be used as some kind of pawn in his sick little mind games. "No," he said as he shook his head. "No. I won't let you kill them."

The man raised his brow, clearly not satisfied with Nathan's answer. "Are you declining my offer?"

"Yes," he answered as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, I am. This game you're playing, it ends now. I want you to get out of my house now and never come back or-"

"Or what?" the man asked. He took a step closer to Nathan and halted. "Tell me, Senator. What are _you_ going to do if I don't leave?" He raised one of his eyebrows and took another step closer. "Let's see, what can you do... You can't call the police. I mean, I wouldn't try if I were you. You can't leave the house... I suppose you can try to kill me, but your brother already tried and, as you can see, I'm still very much alive."

Nathan was surprised to hear that Peter had tried to kill that asshole. He knew his brother gave a good right hook, especially when he thought the other guy deserved it, but he never expected that Peter had it in him to kill. Something really bad must have happened for him to get that angry. "You're underestimating my brother."

"I hope so." The man took another step closer, leaving only a couple of feet distance between the two of them. "I've just gotten started. It's not even midnight yet and I've still got _four_ lives left to take _._ Four, Senator. Including your own. And since you didn't have the guts make a decision, I'm afraid I'll have to make it for you."

"No." Nathan watched with growing fear as the man walked away from him. "Wait."

"Don't worry," he said as he stood by the door and placed his hand on the handle, "I'll be back. It might take a while, seeing as I've got all the time in the world, but I will come back for you, Nathan."

"Please..."

"Because no matter who dies first, one thing is certain."

"No, please."

"You will be the last."


End file.
